Blood on her Hands
by LadyFufu
Summary: Mukuro was more than willing to go along with whatever Junko had asked. ...Yet as more bodies were added to pile - "All for the sake of Despair," she told herself, repeating it like a reassuring mantra - she found herself seeing more and more blood on her hands. Blood that was getting harder and harder to wash off.


Mukuro had found herself washing her hands a lot more in recent times.

Ever since their acceptance into Hope's Peak, Junko had pushed forward on her plans. The school was the perfect setting for it after all; a Tragedy born of Despair, beginning within the esteemed Academy of Hope. And Mukuro was more than willing to go along with whatever Junko had asked. For the sake of Despair. To see Junko happy.

That was all she wanted.

From the beginning, the plan proceeded smoothly. Even with bodies dropping like flies in their wake, Mukuro had been unflinching in her actions. If Junko ordered somebody dead, then they already had a knife in their throat. If Junko wanted somebody captured and brought to her, Mukuro already knew where they would be, at what time, and when best to snatch them.

If Junko wanted somebody brainwashed into Despair and she didn't want to do it herself, then Mukuro had no issue taking up the task.

At first, this was fine. Orders were carried out quickly, without question.

Then one day, to her surprise, she found a spot of blood on her hand. She didn't think much of it - aside from some confusion as to where it'd actually come from - and when she was able to wipe it off with no bother, she put it out of her mind.

Yet as more bodies were added to pile - "All for the sake of Despair," she told herself, repeating it like a reassuring mantra - she found herself seeing more and more blood on her hands. Blood that was getting harder and harder to wash off.

She once excused herself from class to go to the bathroom, hands tucked tightly into her blazer pockets. Once there, she scrubbed and scrubbed her hands until they were raw, and yet the blood wouldn't wash off. She ran her hands under the water, slathered them in so much soap, and yet even when the pristine white sink became stained with red, her sullied hands wouldn't become clean.

Seeing that her attempts were in vain, she eventually gave up and stuffed her shaking hands into her combat gloves instead. She couldn't concern herself with that right now. Junko needed her to focus on Despair. She needed to be a good big sister, she needed to do as she was told, she had to prove she wasn't a disappointment-

More and more bodies. More death and Despair spreading throughout the campus. She wasn't even doing much of the slaying by that point, as her upperclassmen gleefully took her role in doing Junko's bidding. Not that Junko didn't still have work for Mukuro.

She still had a knife clutched in her trembling hand, she was still driving it into whoever stood in their way and their blood just seemed to cling to her with every stab of the knife.

She soon found herself leaving a literal trail of blood behind her; sticking to the bottoms of her shoes and rippling around her with every step even though she'd never stepped in any blood. She was meticulous; she made sure she never let herself be stained, she always cleaned up after herself, so where was the blood coming from and why would it not come off-?!

It wasn't till Mukuro found herself hyperventilating in a bloodstained shower, water running red beneath her feet that she had her first realisation.

Maybe she wasn't cut out for Despair. Even if she was used to taking lives - she'd been a damned mercenary for three years for the love of god! - surely there was a limit even to that? You could only go so far till you hit a line and realised you'd gone too far. And with how she'd been feeling lately, Mukuro was certain she'd long since crossed that line, and she wasn't doing okay. She didn't feel right. Surely. Surely Junko would understand if she just-

Then, her second realisation hit her, and it hit her fast, and it hit her hard.

Junko needed her. She couldn't abandon Junko.

She was being ridiculous about all of this. There was never any blood; it was all in her head. If anything, the fact that she was letting it get to her at all showed that she just as pathetic and disappointing as Junko had always said. And she had to prove that she was none of that, that Junko could count on her reliable big sister.

She was reliable. She was not pathetic. She was not a disappointment. She was a good big sister, a good big sister, a good big sister-

With new resolve, she managed to pick herself up and continue on. Her hands were steady once more, her knife quick. She was swift as she carried out her duties once more, her bloodied hands put out of her mind. She had to focus after all, she had to prove that she was a good big sister.

And she was a good big sister. She did exactly as she was told, exactly as she was ordered. The final member of the Steering Committee collapsed in front of her, spluttering, choking as the blood in his neck bubbled. They were all dead. Just as Junko had ordered. One of the last few obstacles standing in Junko's way, in the way of her plan for true Despair.

Mukuro was a good big sister. Junko could rely on her. She would always do as she was ordered. She was a hardened soldier, a soldier of Despair.

Even with blood on her hands, she would fight for the sake of Despair.

For the sake of her beloved little sister, Junko.

* * *

 **So, this was inspired by the most recent episode of the DR3 Despair anime. And for those of you later down the line wondering what "the most recent" episode is, I'm talking about episode 9. Good god episode 9...**

 **(As a note, for those of you up-to-date with the anime, you'll probably notice a nod to the episode in question. For those of you not up-to-date, because I don't go into too much detail, I figured it'd be okay if I didn't mark it as a spoiler, since it's mild enough in this context, I hope).**

 **I'll admit right now that Mukuro is one of my favourite characters, she has been ever since I first read DR IF years ago, and she still is now, even after we see her do some awful things in the DR3 anime. Am I ignoring the awful things she's doing? Hell no. But do I still love her? Hell yes I still do.**

 **To keep things short and to the point; this fic is a look into Mukuro's mind as Junko's plan is coming to fruition. Because one of the things IF shows us about Mukuro (That the DR3 anime doesn't get to show us due to being a short anime where she's not even the main focus) is that she was never fully with the Despair plot, and only went along with it because Junko is her sister and she wants Junko to be happy.**

 **So I figured, surely at some point she would've begun questioning things? Maybe even began to doubt and regret her role in things? But in the end, because she wants to make Junko happy, she sticks with it. So I hope I managed to convey those sort of ideas in this relatively short fic.**

 **I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. Thank you for reading~.**

 **Angel-chan x**


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